Chapter 25

 

Unable to take any more emotional abuse, Gabby walked across the parking lot to her car and sank behind the steering wheel.

Back at the rehearsal in the pavilion, when they’d gone over placement and timing and what everyone was supposed to do at the wedding, Gabby had signed for Flynn. She was concerned he might miss a direction and, knowing him, if he did something wrong tomorrow, he’d be upset.

But he’d...completely ignored her. Just outright acted as if she wasn’t there. A couple times, Avery had smiled at him and signed for his benefit. He’d smiled and nodded an acknowledgement. Yet, Gabby? If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear it hurt him to look at her.

From there, they’d headed to a private room in Le Italy for dinner where she’d been even more invisible. The group chatted and laughed while she’d done everything in her power not to get sick.

At one point, she’d caught Flynn at the bar and walked over, asking if he needed a drink. He’d lifted his pint of ale with a look she interpreted to mean, I got it. I’m not an idiot. And God. If she’d been hit by a Mack truck, it would’ve hurt less.

Conversation. Dinner. Dessert. Drinks. Laughter.

She’d stayed quiet, idly fiddling with her silverware, hoping not to upset anyone. Avery’s first husband was a jackass who’d pretended Hailey didn’t exist. Her friend deserved this happy day, and so did Cade. Gabby had a hard time keeping it together, which only added more guilt to the bombardment already present.

Flynn never looked at her. Not once.

Closing her eyes, she laid her head against the driver’s seat to give herself a moment of peace. Flynn wanted space, wanted her to think. There was space and then there was the Grand Canyon. And this couldn’t have come at a worse time. Though the clinic was closed, they’d be together the next three days anyway because of the wedding.

What would happen on Monday when they went back to work? Would this cold shoulder continue? They were going to be insanely busy with Cade and Avery gone. For Flynn and Gabby to be out of sync would be like the sixth realm of hell.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t have another day like today with him and not require a padded cell, complete with basket weaving on Tuesdays.

Sighing, she started the car and headed for home. Though past sundown, it was still early yet. She could pop a sleeping pill, shove all this aside for eight blessed hours, and hope she looked a step above crazy cat lady for the wedding tomorrow.

Most of the town had rolled their sidewalks up for the night. Only the restaurants and a couple bars were open. The quaint storefronts were dark, quiet. Lampposts created shadows on the pavement, their yellow glows lighting the way.

Paused at the only traffic signal on Main Street, she glanced to her left where the clinic was located. When the light changed, she pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine. She had no idea why she’d come here instead of going home, but she got out and sat on the hood of her car, staring at the building.

The exterior was regional stone with shutters. The place looked more like a spacious ranch house than a commercial clinic. Inside, it was much larger than it appeared from the outside. The building was dark, of course, since they were closed.

Shutting her eyes, she breathed in pine, and a trace of brine from the ocean mingled with rain from this morning. It was warm tonight, comfortable, and a heavy fog had settled over the area. Not unusual for Oregon, especially Redwood Ridge since it was pocketed between the mountains and the Pacific. Still, the density was thick and blanketed the surrounding forest behind the shops on this side of the street, reducing the trees to a mirage.

Headlights cut through the night, tires crunched over asphalt, and she turned her head. Drake pulled his truck beside hers and climbed out.

She offered a smile, but it fell flat. “Are you following me?”

“Saw your car when I passed by.” After giving her a once-over, he sat beside her on the hood, his expression guarded. “This goes above job dedication, for the record.”

She laughed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know why I came here. I guess what my mother said is still bothering me. Or, rather, how it affected Flynn.”

He grunted, his gaze on the clinic before them. “Cade told me what happened. He had to pry the story out of Flynn.”

“I hate this. I don’t know what to do.” She cleared her throat. “Do you think I...treated him like he was helpless? That wasn’t my intention. I—”

“Stop.” He watched her profile, gaze heavy. “Do you feel sorry for him? Is this a pity situation?”

“What? No.” She turned her head, studied him. His chocolate eyes appeared black in the darkness surrounding them and the tenderness staring back at her was unexpected. “You were baiting me.”

His lips curved. “Your family might question your motives, but I don’t. Never did. You didn’t do those things because you thought he was incapable. You didn’t do stuff for him, you did them with him. Included my brother in your life because you liked him, stayed because you love him.” His brows rose. “Every guy should be so blessed.”

“Drake.” God, of all the O’Grady boys, he was the old-fashioned romantic. He felt things so immeasurably that he loved with his whole self. He didn’t seem to know any other way. She’d witnessed it with Heather, his brothers, even Brent and Zoe. “Heather was a lucky woman. You’re an old soul, Drake.”

He grunted again like he was the lucky one. “You’re as far from an old soul as they get.”

She smiled. “I think I’m insulted.”

His amusement notched to a grin. “Fresh and brand new. That’s you. A clean slate uninhabited by ghosts and prejudice. Stay that way, kid.”

Blinking the endless waterworks away, she looked at the clinic to collect herself and swallowed hard.

After Mr. O’Grady died, when the boys took over, they’d remodeled both the interior and some of the exterior of Animal Instincts. A memory niggled to mind, rough around the edges.

She tilted her head. “You know, when I was little, my dad and I found this stray puppy in the street. It almost got hit by a car. I must’ve been nine or ten.” She remembered the smell of his dirty fur—soil and refuse—as her dad drove them here to get the little guy checked out.

Sensing his gaze, she looked at Drake. “Your dad called him a mutt and I was really mad. I thought he’d insulted the thing.” She laughed and Drake grinned, encouraging more. “But he did the exam, his hands so gentle, and he talked to the puppy the whole time. He was a great man, a wonderful vet, your dad.”

Drake nodded his agreement.

Her gaze drifted back to the building as if she were still ten-years-old and inside with his father. “His technician took the dog in back when your dad was done. She gave him a bath and cut his nails. She didn’t know I followed her. I almost freaked out when she gave him his shots, but the little guy never noticed the poke. She cooed and smiled and the puppy ate it up.”

She stilled, her eyes narrowing as a thought dawned on her. “I remember watching from the doorway and thinking, that’s what I wanna be when I grow up. I want to take care of helpless puppies, animals no one loved.” A laugh skated past her lips. “I forgot all about that until now. Mom’s allergic to most pet dander, so we never got to have pets. This place was like heaven to me when Flynn and I would stop by after school.”

Shaking her head, she sighed. She glanced at Drake and did a double-take, finding his intent eyes on her and a wisp of a smile. “What?” God, she’d babbled, hadn’t she?

His eyebrows pinged, his expression telling her to think hard.

Oh. Ohh. “I guess I can tell Flynn not to feel guilty Rock Star Barbie didn’t pan out.”

“Please don’t explain what that means. I’m sure I don’t want to know.” He laughed, shaking his head in confusion.

“It’s nothing.” She nodded, though. Flynn had been right to give them some space. It forced her to think about them together and evaluate what she wanted. With or without him, she had a feeling she would’ve wound up right here. And she loved her job, her life. “Drake, do me a favor tomorrow, would you?”

“What’s that?”

She chewed her lip. “If Flynn wants to give a toast at the wedding, could you interpret?” His gaze sobered. “I’m sure he was planning on doing a speech and I’d feel terrible if he had to miss out because we’re...you know.”

He stared at her lengthy minutes, making her want to squirm, his expression unreadable. “I understand why my brother fell ass over elbow in love with you.” He grinned. “Sure, kid. I’ll help him out.”

* * * *

In the living room of Cade’s house, Flynn stared at his reflection in the mirror and fiddled with his tie. Avery and Cade had decided to go with three-piece charcoal gray suits instead of tuxes for the groomsmen, and it had been eons since he’d tied one. He got the knot done, but it didn’t look right. Undoing it, he sighed and let the tie hang loose around his neck. Drake would be here shortly and could fix it.

Normally, Gabby would do this crap, but the girls were over at Avery’s mother’s house getting ready in order for the groom not to see the bride. Stupid tradition, if you asked him.

Cade was texting with a huge grin on his face when Flynn turned.

“You don’t seem nervous.”

Cade pocketed the phone. “Because I’m not. Can’t wait to see her in a white dress walking toward me.” He wrinkled his nose, still grinning like a fool. “I don’t care how idiotic that sounds. In a couple hours, Avery will be my wife.”

Throat tight, Flynn shook his head, unable to hide his own smile. “Not stupid at all. I’m really happy for you.” And he was, damn it. Flynn couldn’t have picked a better woman for his brother if he’d scoured the planet himself.

Which only made his errant thoughts drift back to Gabby. And to think, he’d been proud of himself having gone a whole five minutes without thinking about her. He hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours since she’d left his house the other night, and seeing her at the rehearsal hadn’t helped the discontented, holy-shit sensation her absence created.

Like a giant gaping wound.

She’d looked so goddamn beautiful last night with that yellow dress and her caramel hair loose around her shoulders. Staring at her had stolen his breath and caused a searing pain to riddle his organs. As a result, he’d spent the better part of the night pretending she wasn’t there or he would’ve caved, taken her right there in the pavilion, and begged her to forget the things he’d said.

Regardless of his recent blinding insight, their time apart hadn’t been a bad thing. Without it, he might’ve kept seesawing with doubt, and she deserved better than that. As did he.

But he’d hurt her and that was unforgivable. His sweet Gabby, heart for miles. Last night was the first time in his memory her light had been...vanquished. He’d lay awake trying to conjure ways to fix it. Because when she’d walked out of the restaurant, he knew her love had nothing to do with guilt or obligation or familiarity. Had he been thinking more clearly, he would’ve known that all along.

Instead, he’d let her family’s misgivings and his own damn suspicion cloud what he’d always relied on—her actions. Not because he couldn’t hack it on his own, but because he didn’t have to. And she was no pushover. Gabby might be kind and giving to a fault, but she was no doormat incapable of saying no. Nor was she gullible. If she’d wanted out of his life, if she didn’t love him, she wouldn’t have remained by his side all these years.

Gabby wasn’t the only one who’d been there for him. His family and close friends had learned to sign, and in his presence, did so while simultaneously speaking in order to include him. That was only one of several examples, and it wasn’t as if he didn’t add value to his loved ones lives, too. Somehow, he’d forgotten that. He may be a little different, but he wasn’t a charity case.

For whatever reason, he’d just let Gabby in deeper than the others. Perhaps part of him had always known she was it for him, had recognized her as the only woman he’d ever love.

He still didn’t know how to fix the damage he’d done, though. Falling on his knees and begging her to forgive his idiocy didn’t seem like enough.

Drake strode in the front door, already dressed in his suit. He kicked the door shut and headed straight for Flynn without stopping. Before he knew Drake’s intention, his big brother slapped him upside the head.

“What the hell?”

“Exactly. What the hell?” Drake’s pissed-off gaze swept Flynn from head to toe. “Did you happen to pay attention to Gabby last night? You broke her. You made her cry. Gabby who burps sunshine and farts rainbows. You tell me, what the hell.”

Flynn’s shoulders sagged and he narrowed his eyes at a laughing Cade before swiping a hand down his face. “I know.”

“You know? What, exactly, do you know?” Drake’s brows mockingly lifted. “That you’ve loved each other so long you called it friendship and that screwed with your head? That she’d move heaven and earth to make you happy because she loves you, not because she pities your sorry ass? That—”

“I know!” Shit. Flynn closed his eyes and sucked air, but there wasn’t any to be had. She’d taken all the damn oxygen two nights ago when she’d walked off his deck in tears. “I know,” he said, hopefully more calmly.

Cade’s grin made him want to punch it off his face. He slapped Flynn’s arm. “Welcome to the poor sap’s club. It’s a nice place to exist.”

Drake was still radiating murderous vibes. “Mom and Dad taught you better than this. We,” he swiped a hand between him and Cade, “taught you better than this.”

Letting out a gale-force wind from his lungs, Flynn eyed the ceiling for a moment. “I screwed up. I know that. She’s just... I didn’t think I was good enough.”

There. Hell, the root of the problem right there.

Cade shrugged as if this wasn’t news. “That’s how you know, yeah? I’m not good enough for Avery and Hailey, but here I am in a monkey suit ready to try.”

Drake smacked Cade upside the head. “You’re good enough. And so is he.” He jerked a thumb at Flynn. “Avery picked you.” He looked at Flynn. “And Gabby picked you. That makes you both above good enough.”

With a pout, Cade rubbed his head. “I’m telling Avery you did that.”

“She can thank me later.” Drake eyed Flynn. “What are you going to do to get her back?”

“I don’t know.” Flynn dropped his arms to his sides. “You’re the fucking Jedi Master all of a sudden. Got any bright ideas?”

“You’re talking.”

“So?”

“You’ve been talking the past five minutes.”

“So damn what?” Flynn ground his jaw. “What does—” He straightened suddenly and...son of a bitch.

He just might stroke out, his heart pounded that hard. His palms sweated and the room got a little tipsy. He wished he could blame it on whiskey, which he might need an entire bottle of if he were to go through with the plan that just slammed into his head.

Drake laughed, the asshole. “Now you got it.” He knotted Flynn’s tie, straightened it, and patted his shoulder. “Go get ‘em.”